Sunny Days (closed)

Stuck? Nonono. She had been in plenty of rainstorms over training, she could handle getting wet. She backed away from him with an apology, however, and rose her eyebrow. "You scared of a little rain?" She asked. "N-not that that's bad. It's...um...a joke...nevermind." She rubbed her arm, and jumped again as an icy drop made its way through a crack in the ceiling. Damn, that was some freezing water. She didn't want to catch a cold by going out there...

Scared? No, he wasn't scared of the rain. It was the semi-darkness that came with the thick rainclouds that made him slightly uncomfortable. It felt unnatural to him. As long as he could bring light, however, he was fine.

"Nah, I'm not scared," Owen said. "I just don't want to get wet. It takes forever to take off wet clothes." He watched her shiver curiously, and glanced up at the ceiling.

"It might be worth it to get into the warmth, though." His voice trailed off as he spoke, glancing once more at the rain that was falling outside. The horses were forgotten as he contemplated whether it was worth it to stay in the stables or go back inside the school. Unlike Madison, he still hadn't felt the cold seep through his jacket, and he was grateful for it. It was just a matter of time, however.

"I, um, erm..." She looked down, rubbing her arm as if it were steel, her hand flint. Truth be told, it was fun to run through the rain. A lot funner than staying in the stables. Still, she was awful at conveying her opinion, or leaning towards something that someone else did not want to do. That was another problem of hers. She was a pushover...

"Well, I, um, can't really stand in the dark--the night, and I guess it'll be dark enough with the stormclouds...um...so you'll have to be my...light." She gave a glance to the light in his palm, wondering if that was limited. She hoped with a sudden pang of worry it wasn't, but her mouth seems unobliged to form the question rattling in her head.

Owen was taken aback by the poetry in her words. He liked the idea of being someone's light: it made him sound like a hero. Clearing his throat in an attempt to cover up his sudden desire to come to someone's rescue, he glanced at his light, already feeling a bit of exhaustion.

"I can't be a light forever," he said. "I get really tired if I keep it up for too long. This isn't a big light, but it's still a little draining." Truth was, the appeal of going inside was increasing, and whether it was a phantom feeling happening in response to his thoughts or if it was real, he shivered in the cold.

"Either way, we should go back. The horses probably don't want us here for very long." He reached over with his free hand, he patted the nose of the horse they had pet just minutes before.

Madison nodded, but an anxiety welled up in her chest. The rain was not letting up, its relentless pummel of the roof seeming ready to break the old shack down. Plus, it was cold. Dakota falls were the worst.

However, she decided to brave it, and opened the heavy door with caution. It was light enough that hallucinations were no where to be seen, a highlight of noon, but the outside world was distorted by a flurry of raindrops, cold as snow. She swallowed, looked back at Owen, and nodded to him. They were on their own until they regrouped in the dorms. She set her sights on her target doors, metal barriers at the Spring House entrance, and bolted across the empty and puddling courtyard. She immediately regretted it, being barraged by icy drop after icy drop, trying to dodge them with no avail. They were huge. Meanwhile, streams were collecting on the poorly-drained yard, soaking her shoes as she splotched and plopped through the garden with quickly-wettened socks. She was drenched and cold; there was no way to avoid that anymore. So she stopped. She stopped and looked up at the sky, and smiled. It was actually kind of nice, in a way, like a shower; a cold shower, the kind you take at camp when you have no warm water. But Madison wasn't bothered by the cold. It was suddenly refreshing...

She looked backward to Owen with a grin, an open grin, something she'd never shown the boy before. Everything she did around him was reserved, checked, rehearsed in her head. But she seemed genuine here.

Why did she stop? Owen had extinguished the light and was prepared to go after Madison, but she had stopped in the middle of the grass and turned back to him, the craziest grin on her face. Confused, he hesitated, unsure of whether he should pursue her and stand in the freezing rain, or if he should just run by her and grab her hand was he went, dragging her to the safe cover that was still several feet away from where she stood.

Heaving a great sigh, Owen pulled up the hood of his jacket, steeled himself, and jogged out into the rain. He instantly felt the chill of the drops, nearly paralyzing his muscles. They began to protest, making it difficult for him to perform such a simple action. He reached Madison after a few moments and stopped, looking down at her.

"Are you crazy?" he asked. His question was completely serious, but he laughed as he asked it, the smile on her face contagious. His shoes and socks were already soaked from splashing through the mud, and the cuffs of his jeans had absorbed some of the water as well, numbing his ankles.

She might have been. Madison looked up at him, blinking the water from her eyes a few times, then seemed to regain her senses. She gave a few more hops around the currents of water, until she reached the door, ducking under the overhang that kept it dry. She swiped her card at the door, and held it open for Owen when she walked in, knowing it would lock if she didn't.

With a shake of his head, Owen followed Madison, smiling all the way. Once inside, he breathed a sigh of relief and took his hood off, shaking his hair out. A shiver ran through his body, and he glanced down at his clothes. They weren't entirely soaked, but they were wet enough that he wanted to change them. Otherwise, he would end up freezing for the rest of the day.

Madison was much wetter, but had been coming into the dormitories every night soaked to the bone. It almost seemed like a right of passage, something that came with the prospect of coming home. Still, her jaw quivered, her pale cheeks stamped with the dampness of the autumn's rain. She felt awful, for the brief moment of euphoric stillness she experienced in the pouring rain. Was it worth it? It didn't feel worth it.

The last thing she wanted was Nicola to see her wet again. She'd look absolutely ridiculous, something she tried her best to avoid around the small girl. Madison hadn't seen her since her mother almost killed her lighthaired friend, since she woke up to find that Nicola had left. It was good to know she was alive.

And so, when she squished up the stairs with Owen in silence, she murmured: "You can come in if you want, um..." It was more in alertness, a quick suggestion to get in her room. But she realized he had to change too. When she got to her door, she spun around, one hand gripping the knob behind her back, the other holding her glistening laptop thatiswaterproofandthatidefinitelydidn'tforgetabout. "Well, you, um, would probably be too wet to come in, unless you want some of my clothes, but...you...can't really wear girl clothes--" she took a moment to smirk at the thought of Owen in a skirt, red-faced. "--or maybe...I'll meet you some other time, or...now if you want to...hang out..."

And she spun around without waiting for an answer, until she realized...it was locked. Her face grew a deeper auburn, and she knocked, to no answer, the echo of darkness on the other side. She'd locked herself out again. Her key was in her bag, a bag she didn't bring to class that day because the only requirement was a laptop. Fuck fuck fuck, she was a moron. The girl let out a small, defeated cry at the door.

His shoes squelched with every step, that hole that he'd been meaning to fix in the left sneaker pushing out water with each footfall, only to suck it back in with every raised foot. Even though they were now inside, Owen was beginning to feel a chill. He squeezed his fists shut in an attempt to warm his steadily chilling fingers.

He was prepared to answer Madison with an I'd like to change first but sure, until she couldn't open her door. Did she not have the key? Silently, he watched her struggle for a moment, and he had to stifle a laugh at her soft cry of anguish, a feeling he knew only too well.

"Uh, we could go to my dorm, if you wanted," he suggested, already half turning to move down the hall. "You're more likely to fit in my clothes than I am in yours. I'm sure I have plenty of dry things, if you wanted to change." He turned away for a moment to disguise the heat he felt rising in his cheeks.

Changing into another person's clothes. Changing into a boy's clothes. Her underwear was wet. He'd have to change into a boy's....

She could always call the dormitory control office, if her dormmates weren't going to be there. They rarely were. The Dormitory Control were always busy, however, and it would be some time until they decided to do something about it. She had no choice. Through a face of obvious embarrassment, a crooked mouth and downcast eyes, she nodded softly at the offer. If he was going to be her flashlight, this would be an opportune moment to get closer. She supposed she'd have to be friends with more people than just Nicola.

Of course, she was also friends with D'angelo. He called her cute when they met. Did Owen think she was cute?

Madison was making this way harder than Owen could have thought it would be. Normally, he wouldn't have been so embarrassed; after all, he was only offering help to a friend in need. But there was something about the way she was acting that made him suddenly lose confidence in himself. Wordlessly, he gestured towards his room.

Owen led the way, feeling self-conscious about his walk, his clothes, his hair, everything. His inner dialogue was going crazy. He suddenly felt like he had a wingman in his head, trying to get him to make the right moves, but he didn't even think it was appropriate.
Hey man, you should make a bad joke and then laugh at it.
Why would that help?
If she laughs, then you know she likes you.
That's the stupidest thing I've ever thought of.
Do you want her to like you or not?
I don't even know the answer to that!

They were at his door, and he dug in his pocket for the key, successfully pulling it out when Madison was unable to. The door opened and Owen stepped aside, letting Madison enter first. His roommates were all out, and the shared space was a mess.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, racing forward and attempting to clean everything up before Madison could see any of it.

But she did see it all. Not bothered by the awkward silence, more so by Owen's possibility of being bothered by the awkward silence, she welcomed the new environment, a talking point for them. Plus, she'd be able to get warm; she was freezing, trying her best to keep the woodpecker going at her teeth silent as possible. At any point, she wasn't bothered by the mess. "It's fine," she said, and immediately went, "Um, where can I change, or, what can I change into? I'm, erm, cold...not a lot, but...a lot." Hugging her arms only made the vest chillier, so they kept at her side sturdily.

"Oh, right, you're probably freezing!" Setting the items he had picked up on the table, he crossed the room to his own bedroom door. Owen opened the door and moved to the dresser, digging through it for clean clothes. He finally found a pair of pajama pants with drawstrings, the smallest t-shirt he could find, and his last clean pair of boxers. With as much confidence as he could muster, he returned to Madison.

"Here are some dry clothes," he said, handing the mentioned items to the girl. "You can just use my room to change, if you'd like." He smiled at her warmly before returning to tidying the room up.

Damn right she was. Madison nodded a thank you, grabbed the items, and scurried off into his room. She immediately found the room itself to be a little more interesting than getting changed in it. She studied his furniture, his setup, any sign of what his hobbies would be. It was when she realized how much time had passed without her changing, that she pulled off her vest in haste.

It was strange being naked in someone else's room. Madison felt foreign, odd and defenseless, like someone was going to bust through the door. She made sure to quickly pull on the boxers, putting the shirt over her head and almost tripping over the pants. There were a few parts missing--a bra and socks, to name a few--but it was manageable. She walked out after a certain amount of time, a time that felt longer in her head than it probably was in actuality.